


Inner Demons Don't Play Well With Angels

by 1in5billion



Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:07:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24177880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1in5billion/pseuds/1in5billion
Summary: "Sometimes life actually gives to you by taking away." - Carrie Fisher
Relationships: Leia Organa/Han Solo
Comments: 4
Kudos: 31





	1. Chapter 1

Han hadn’t wanted to go to Luke. Going to Luke was the one thing that he had been trying to avoid. It wasn’t that he thought Leia would be upset with him. It was more that he thought she would be upset with herself.

He thought time would be enough to soften the edges of the memories slamming into her head every night. He thought the number of times she would wake up screaming and the number of times he rocked her back to sleep in his arms like a child would go down, not up. He slept with his blaster on the bedside table every night. Every night, he was up for hours just watching her breathe. Because if he was looking at her, nothing could happen to her. There seemed to be nothing wrong with that logic until he caught himself falling asleep at any given moment during the day. 

Sooner or later, she was going to catch on. He had to tell someone. Luke was the obvious choice. She really didn’t have anyone else.

“I’m worried about Leia.”

Han expected some kind of reaction, but Luke looked almost as though he was expecting that exact sentence. Almost as if…

“I know. I am, too.”

Han was almost used to the Force connection between them. Almost. But he always seemed to be out of the loop in some way or another. It wasn’t enough that they were twins. They were Jedi twins, and sometimes, he swore, mind readers. But if anyone could get through to Leia, it was going to be Luke. Han was willing to push aside his discomfort for her sake.

“I wouldn’t ask you to talk to her if it wasn’t important,” Han said, not quite defensively—no, there was something else in his voice that Luke couldn’t put his finger on. “I feel like every day that goes by, I lose another piece of her. I need to catch her before there’s nothing left to lose.”

Sadness. It was sadness lurking in his voice.

“I’ll talk to her,” Luke agreed, but he started to question his decision when he saw his sister next, the first time he visited where she was now living with Han.

How long had she been ghostly pale? Had the dark circles under her eyes always been there? She was tiny, but had she always been so thin? He couldn’t remember a time before this when he’d had to loosen his grip when he hugged her out of fear of breaking her.

“Let me guess,” she said, and immediately, Luke knew his cover was blown. “Han wanted you to talk to me.”

Luke said nothing, and that was all Leia needed as an answer.

“He hasn’t been sleeping. It’s my fault.”

“It’s no one’s fault,” Luke said, guiding her to a chair in hopes that she’d catch on to his intentions and at least get off her feet. “Especially not yours.”

“He’s so worried about me,” she whispered.

Han thought she didn’t notice when he woke up and sat on the edge of the bed to watch over her. He thought she didn’t hear when he got his blaster out and set it on the bedside table. She pretended to be asleep because she knew that the thought of her dreaming peacefully was a comfort to him. She couldn’t bear to cause him any more pain than he was already feeling. 

“You can trust him,” Luke said, reaching over to take her hand. “He’s not going anywhere.”

“He does sometimes,” Leia said softly. “In my dreams.”

“They’re just dreams. They don’t mean anything.”

“You don’t actually believe that,” Leia fired back, jumping to her feet and brushing Luke’s hand away when he attempted to ease her back into the chair. “You can’t possibly say that when our father dreamed about our mother dying for months before she…”

Her voice trailed off. She knew without a trace of doubt that what she was saying was true, but she could not figure out how she knew it.

“Listen,” she started again, her voice much steadier this time. “I lost him once after the Death Star. Of course…I didn’t care much then. He was an ass. But then I lost him again, and again, and again, and now I have him back and all I can think each day is that I’m going to wake up and find out that he’s being tortured or on a ship being shot at in the sky or…”

She was crying now, the tears that had been building since the second Death Star blew. She hadn’t had time to cry the day it happened. They were too busy celebrating. Then she moved in with Han and they were too busy packing and arguing about why no, they could not just live on the Falcon and why would you even suggest that, Han Solo? But the solace of their new house had not lasted long. It was quiet and gave Leia time alone with the thoughts she hadn’t had the time to think. She thought peace and quiet was going to be a good thing, but without a rebellion to lead, it had turned out to be nothing but trouble.

“Your dreams,” Luke began, his voice more comforting than dismissive this time, “are they memories or do they look like they’re happening in the future?”

“Cloud City,” Leia said softly. “Right before he was frozen in carbonite. Sometimes it’s Jabba’s Palace and we aren’t quick enough to save him.”

Luke visibly relaxed. These were flashbacks, not premonitions. It wasn’t great—trauma was still trauma—but this, he could handle. With this, he could reason with her.

“But you were quick enough. You have always been quick enough. And he is so, so lucky to have you. So am I, for that matter. If it wasn’t for you, I might still be in the sky in Cloud City.”

At this, Leia cracked a smile. It didn’t quite reach her eyes like it used to, but it was a start.

“I know you,” Luke continued. “You’re stubborn as hell, and you get used to life being a certain way, so when things come along to change it, it affects you more than it needs to. Change is a good thing sometimes. This change is good. You’re in love and you get to start a new life without the Empire. No one is targeting this planet just because you’re connected to it somehow. This isn’t a base that’s being invaded. No one is chasing you across the galaxy. No one is waiting for you in a dining room to capture Han. You live here with him because the most nomadic man I’ve ever met decided he wants to settle down with you. You’re not here to hide. You’re here to start the rest of your life. Leia…there’s a difference between being alive and just living. You’re just living.”

“I guess,” Leia’s voice broke again, “I forgot what it was like to know something good and not be in danger of losing it. This doesn’t feel like my life. I feel like I stole someone else’s life, and any second, something is going to break into this house and put me in my place. This is the first family I haven’t lost.”

“That much, I can understand,” Luke said, allowing his thoughts to drift to his aunt and uncle for a moment. “I lost a couple families, too. But I found you. I found Han and Chewie, and even Lando. This is my family. It’s your family. And there’s no one left to break in and take it. They’re gone. You’re safe now.”

A soft whirring outside signaled Han’s arrival, and Luke muttered an excuse about needing to go home.

“How is she?” Han asked when they met at the door.

“Traumatized. I’ve only seen her like this one other time…right after the first Death Star. When she finally had time to let losing Alderaan hit her. She just…she could use a hug. Just be there for her. Time is the only thing that can help her. The things she’s afraid of won’t happen. She just needs to be patient enough to let her own life prove her wrong.”

Han let that sink in as Luke left, bracing himself for whatever Leia’s emotional state may have become, but she looked surprisingly stoic when he came into the room.

“You doing okay?” he asked awkwardly.

She didn’t say anything, but crossed the room to where he stood, wrapped her arms around him, and allowed him to lift her off the floor. He sat down with her like this, and she finally, for the first time in countless days, relaxed into his arms. She settled her head on his chest and felt her own breathing, which had been shallow and far too fast for weeks, deepen and slow as she felt his heartbeat against her cheek. He was warm, his jacket was soft, and he was alive. Safe and alive. 

“I love you,” she murmured as her eyelids finally grew heavier.

His arms tightened around her, and she knew, again without knowing how she knew it, that she would wake up the next morning exactly where she was, still in his arms.

“I know.”


	2. Relapse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "He holds her close just to keep the world at bay..." - Fair, by the Amazing Devil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Leia, for making me feel like a general when I feel like a struggling rebel.

The next few nights passed peacefully enough that Leia began to grow suspicious. She was doing well. A little too well. Han was over the moon about it. They had been able to talk about jobs and politics and what would happen to the Alliance now that there was no Death Star, and as far as Han was concerned, they were settling into a new normal. But Leia wasn't convinced. One night asleep on Han's lap wasn't enough to fix the storms raging in her head. They were just taking a break. She was recharging before the next round.

“You’ve been quiet today,” Han said as they got into bed that night.

“I’ve been thinking.”

“You’re always thinking. What is it?”

“Nothing.”

“I thought politicians were supposed to be good liars. I can read you like a book.”

“I’m a politician by title. Commander by choice.”

Mon Mothma had given her an official Alliance ranking the day before, with the promise that if she stuck with the cause, she’d be a general before she knew it.

“You’re not going to tell me, are you?”

Leia laughed.

“I’ll tell you if there’s something to tell.”

Han leaned over and switched the light off and settled onto his pillow, stretching out one arm so he could rest it on her back once she closed her eyes. She had run herself into the ground that day with work for the alliance, so it didn’t take long for her to go to sleep. But what met her there made her wish she hadn’t bothered.

“Anakin, how long is it going to take for us to be honest with each other?”

That voice had to be her mother.

“It was a dream.”

“Bad?”

“Like the ones I used to have about my mother just before she died.” 

An image flashed in front of Leia’s eyes and she realized she was seeing her mother and father’s faces for the first time. If she had control over her subconscious she would have frozen them there and memorized every inch of them. Her father’s intense stare, the one she had inherited. The soft waves of her mother’s hair. She could see herself in them. She couldn’t linger on this thought for long though, because that scene changed almost as quickly as it had started.

They were on the first Death Star. Han went running after the stormtroopers. He didn’t come back.

They were on Cloud City. Han went into the carbon freeze. Lando walked over to check on him, but looked up, not meeting Leia’s eyes.

“He’s dead.”

They were on Tatooine. Leia was back in the metal monstrosity that had been forced on her, once again chained to Jabba. She lost Luke and Han that time.

Endor. A blast from an Imperial walker. 

The second Death Star. The Millennium Falcon engulfed in flames. 

In throne room Leia had never seen before, Luke was struck down at the hands of a terror of a being that she could only assume was the Emperor. Off to the side, Vader, the same man who had dreams about losing his mother all those years ago, stood and watched.

If the scene had changed one more time, Leia supposed it would have been the shot she took in front of the Imperial bunker. Three inches to the left, and it would have caught her square in the heart. But the thought of that didn’t haunt her to the core the way everything else did. Losing herself wasn’t the thing that scared her. It was everyone else.

The scene around her swirled lazily one more time, as she returned to the chamber on Cloud City. She was alone with Han’s frozen body. Vader was gone, and he had taken all of those stormtroopers with him. Lando was gone. Even Chewie was gone. Boba Fett had been true to his word when he said “he’s no good to me dead,” and had stalked back to his ship in a fury. It was just Leia in this room now, doubled over with her forehead just barely touching the stone. 

“Don’t go,” she heard herself whisper. “I love you. You’re my family. The only family I haven’t lost yet. Don’t leave me here.”

The pain was unbearable. She was clawing at the stone, trying to get closer to the man buried underneath, eyes swimming with twenty two years of tears that she had never let fall. In the distance, Chewie growled once, deep and mournful, and that was when the floodgates burst wide open. She was crying in a way that she had never cried before. She had held it together for Alderaan, for her parents, for Obi Wan Kenobi. But with them, it was because she needed a brave face for the ones she was still representing. Losing Han was a different kind of loss. It was raw and the sobs racking her body made her throat and eyes burn and her head pound. It was a wound that wouldn’t heal, and every time she was sure she had bled out, that there was nothing left in her to keep her going, she was still standing and Han was still stone.

Aware of how swollen they were, she eased her eyes open again, but this time, what swirled around her wasn’t a memory. It was her bedroom. It was Han’s arms, holding her so tightly that they’d become one person if they were any closer. He was holding her, all of her, rocking her back and forth like a child, and the way she had been clawing the stone was how her fingernails raked the fabric of his shirt. He was so warm and wonderfully alive. Her throat was on fire, and she knew without asking that she had been screaming. For how long, she had no idea. 

Through the lingering tears blurring her vision, Leia noticed that the blaster wasn’t on his bedside table anymore, and her heart dropped to her toes. He had figured it out. He had realized that everything haunting her, hunting her, tormenting her, was in her own head. It wasn’t something he could shoot his way out of. It was harder to deal with and not as easy to vanquish. She was in pain so deep that she could drown in it. She just chose not to. Every day, she made that choice. And every night, she lost all of her control when she went to sleep. And everything made sense to Han now. All of it. Why she was so reluctant to close her eyes at night, why shadows lingered under her eyes, why it seemed like her spark had gone out.

All of her demons came to life at night.

“We’re going to get you better,” Han murmured into her hair. “I promise.”

Leia didn't answer. Her own sobs were still choking her.

“I’ve got you. You’re safe now. We’re not going anywhere.”

“Don’t leave,” she whispered. “Don’t leave. Don’t leave. Don’t leave. Don’t leave.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I used a few lines from Revenge of the Sith in this chapter--I obviously don't own those and all credit goes to the writers.


End file.
